


we could be enough

by cjr09



Series: Space Crime [1]
Category: Galari Universe
Genre: a prologue of sorts, and after a test, and i cant, but here this is regardless, do you know how much braining it takes to word good, i meant to write something else but here this is instead, im very tired friends i wrote this in bursts over a 2 hour period, its lots, to the space crime series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjr09/pseuds/cjr09
Summary: Happi can't seem to stop thinking; too many ideas, too little time, not enough processing.It's hard for anything to keep her attention for long, but this-This does.





	we could be enough

Happi can’t seem to _stop_ thinking, sometimes; her brain moves quickly and her thoughts jump like she does and she has to scramble to keep up, a race against herself she’s bound to lose.

It keeps her up, often- Blink doesn’t sleep (it hadn’t taken Happi long to figure out they’re afraid to) and Snailbot sleeps like her, in erratic bursts when he can’t keep his eyes open any longer and lurching back into wakefulness like a thing possessed, heart racing like their Star is so fond of.

She’s been accused of not paying attention, never stopping to let others speak, becoming interested in something only to toss it aside a few moments later, that nothing is ever _enough_ for her.

It’s not true, for the most part; she _does_ pay attention (she’d be dead if she didn’t), and she cares what others have to say. She cycles through all the questions and theories and ideas she has about something so fast it can be considered boredom or arrogance or any other insult.

But when something catches her attention- _really_ catches her attention- she holds onto it with both hands and all the stardust she carries.

And this idea that’s been brewing in the sea of her thoughts, hovering at the surface and refusing to sink below the waves, shouting like a stowaway demanding its rescue-

Well. It has her attention.

(She doesn’t dispute the last claim. Nothing is ever _enough_.)

* * *

It’s been a few cycles since they’ve brought Snailbot into the fold and they get along well: great, even. Blink and he get along and Happi and he get along and they all get along in a group and it’s _good_ because it’s family, it’s home.

(The dark parts of her thoughts eat at her. It’s not _enough.)_

Blink had, jokingly, referred to their kidnapping/rescue of Snailbot as Space Crime, with capital letters; an idea, a title, a movement, an _organization._

It has her attention.

There’s others out there, like her, and Snailbot, and Blink- there are others out there who are _unhappy,_ who are looking for a way out, a helping hand, a guiding light.

There are Galari out there looking for friends and family and saviors. There are Galari out there looking for _peace,_ for a safe place, a safe _space._

Happi knows they don’t have that- their solar system is small and nonthreatening and couldn’t hold up to a fight, wouldn’t know how to defend themselves in one, and even before going head to head with the Tiberius system theirs was a system with _enemies._

But it’s a thought. A safe place, a safe space, where others can laugh and run and play without fear. It’s an idea dangerously close to _utopia_ but Happi knows that’s not what she wants, a place without strife or conflict, but a place to _grow_ and _learn_ and fight, maybe, but make up at the end of it. Not somewhere without fear, but a place where it can be fought off.

It’s a lofty goal. It’ll take far, far more than just her to get it more than a couple of Dusts and an exceptionally fast Star to even get it off the ground.

So, Space Crime. Build, recruit, rescue; make a solar system from the ground up. They’ve got the ground _work,_ a willing Star and a couple clever Dusts and they’re all sneakier than anyone would guess.

They just need _more._ More Galari, more time, more energy. (Nothing is ever _enough.)_

Happi turns the idea in her head, over and over and over and over. Pokes holes in it then repairs them, works on it for days and nights and in her brief, nightmare-filled dreams. It’s a _good_ idea.

(Happi knows that she, singularly, is not _good._ She’s got too many flaws, too much noise, too many ideas and is too willing to pick a fight. She’s not overly patient, too friendly, and nothing ever satisfies her for long. She wants to _go_ and _move_ and always, always be making progress, or finding where her failures lie and redoing them, consequences be damned.

But _this_ \- this is a good idea. It’s a _good_ idea. Happi is not good but maybe she can _do_ good.

Maybe this, finally, will be _enough._ )

* * *

She turns the idea around, over and over and over, pokes holes and repairs them and fights with herself until she’s sure her ideas are ironclad, presentable; it still takes her time to work up the courage, to clear her throat and force her words out clearly, a way she _knows_ demands they be heard. In a way that turned heads, drew attention, even when every being in the universe seemed to be resolved to ignore her.

She’s pretty sure that Blink and Snailbot wouldn’t _ignore_ her, or tell her she was being stupid or overdramatic, but it’s a fear she was born with and a fear proven true time and time again. She has to be _sure._ It’s a _good_ idea, one that deserves attention, and thought, and detail; it deserves the right words, the best tone. She _has_ to get it right.

_(It will never be enough,_ whispers the dark parts of her, a clamoring of voices of monsters from the past, bullies left long behind but their words carried like burrs. _It will never be enough for you.)_

She practices during trips to the Celestial Forest, when she can slip away for long enough, travel far enough. Cuts the fat, clarifies details, edits her words and thoughts like they were steel and she the forge. Words are _powerful_ and she knows this better than most, has to craft them just right, beat out the imperfections and sharpen the edges. She _has_ to get it right.

_It has to be enough._

* * *

She can recognize hesitation in herself well enough; she knows when she waiting out of fear and not out of planning, so eventually, she forces herself to her feet and stands before her Star and her companion and her friends, both of them. She makes herself big, and strong, and steady, and makes her speech.

It’s a _good_ speech. She knows that, has spent days on it, working and speaking and thinking, but as her words fade she still freezes, waiting for their reactions, their praise or dismissal, _anything._

_(It’s never enough,_ her brain whispers. _You’re never enough.)_

Blink’s whiskers twitch in a way Happi knows means _amusement_ but before the sharp stab or hurt can find its place in her heart they speak.

“Where do you want to start?”

It’s not how Happi would have asked, but Blink isn’t very good with words, and she doesn’t begrudge them for it, but her shoulders slump in something like _relief_ regardless.

“It sounds fun!” Snailbot chimes in, moving forward to nudge her limp arm gently with his. “It’s a good idea.”

Blink gives a hummed note of _agreement_ and Happi closes her eyes shut for just a moment, forcing down the wave of emotion that rises in the sea of her thoughts, threatening to sweep her under. She’s planned for this, got the _words_ for this and a thousand other reactions.

(It’s a _good_ idea. None of them are _good,_ really, too many flaws and too broken in too many places, but together, maybe, they can _do_ good.)

She has a million words for a thousand different reactions, different scenarios, ideas; but she hadn’t planned on the _good_ outcome so she sputters a bit, scrambling for footing, and she still can’t quite believe it’s really happening so she makes herself stand tall, ask again for clarity. If they’re on board, if they think it’s a good idea, if they believe her, if they believe _in_ her.

Still, she can’t quite stop the rhythmic thumping of one of her legs, anxiety flooding from her body and finding an outlet.

_(It could be enough.)_

“So,” she says, elation evident in her voice, “Space Crime?”

**Author's Note:**

> this was a complete tangent from what I planned on writing? but a bit of backstory and character development and Space Crime
> 
> the first, and prologue of, the series of Welcome to the Family quests im doing! I'm not sure how long they'll be, but I'll try and go in order of who joined when in posting stories, at least.
> 
> OwO


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